Trailing Harry
by S. Ryder
Summary: 2 years after book seven. Harry is persumed dead but one or maybe two of his closest friends have yet to give up hope (chapter 2 is up)
1. The volunteer

The Volunteer  
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls.. I have been trained in the art of magic for many years.." The Fairfax Follies was located inside of the last yet largest tent within the dirty fairgrounds that afternoon. Forty muggles, the local sheep farms around the area, had decided to attend the weekend's first show. What they didn't know was that The Fabulous Fairfax, (who was born John Walters) had just as much magic inside of him as almost everyone in the dismal crowd. ".and to prove that to you now I will need a volunteer."  
  
His dark, doll-like eyes scattered through the dismal crowd. Three children pushed each other down as they eagerly raised their hands. "Sorry children, for now I need someone who is a bit older." A teenager boy was gently nudging his husky father to raise his hand. "I need someone.who has a secret magic power inside of them." Fairfax methodically pointed his hand out in the air. "Think magical thoughts everyone. Keeping thinking magical thoughts. EVERYONE STOP! I can now sense someone in here who has that power I need."  
  
Sitting alone, four rows up with his hands in his pocket was Fairfax's first victim. "You , sir." The person did not look up. "Yes I can sense something coming from the chap in the plaid shirt and dark hair!"  
  
Noticing that the small crowd was hunched over and looking at him, the hand- picked volunteer looked up at the magician. "Me?" His voice creaked to the disappointment of the few hopeful audience members.  
  
Dressed in an awful arrangement that looked like it was supposed to have been a clown suit, was Fairfax's assistant - Jolly. Rushing up to the startled volunteer, Jolly haphazardly pulled him down the bleacher's steps towards the dirt ground.  
  
As if a great stage fright had conquered the reluctant new part of the show, Fairfax put one hand on his shoulder and asked the volunteer a pre- arranged question. "Tell us, what is your name?"  
  
But before he could ask Fairfax smiled and interrupted. "No No No. wait..let me guess!"  
  
"Bill?"  
  
The volunteer shook his head.  
  
"How about Mark?"  
  
The volunteer shook his head.  
  
"Is it. Jack?"  
  
Although the same, blank expression still lay on the man's face the head nodded.  
  
"Ah yes..Three is the magic number!" Fairfax said, wiping sweat off of his brow as the crowd looked unamused. "Now tell me, Jack, do you believe in magic?"  
  
"No, I suppose not," the volunteer said putting his hand in his pockets. A few of the children in front gasped and some of the crowd gave a courtesy laugh to Fairfax's startled face after reacting to the words.  
  
"Well then why would such a person come to a magic show?!" Fairfax asked.  
  
"Guess it just seemed interesting." The man shrugged.  
  
"Well sir, you as well - as everyone else here - will believe in magic by the time today's events are over. No one leaves the Fabulous Fairfax's show without believing in the power of magic!"  
  
A get black cylinder wand appeared from midair into Fairfax's hand and the younger part of his audience clapped.  
  
"Tell me, Jack." The magician said circling the statue of a volunteer, mischievously. "Do you believe in snakes?"  
  
A puff of smoke spread out onto the floor. Right in front of the volunteer was a long, black snake slithering over the volunteer's feet. A few faintly woman shrieking didn't stop the magician from continuing his act.  
  
"How about ..rabbits?" The magician said, once again pointing his wand down causing the snake to disappear and a fluffy bunny rabbit hop up into Fairfax's open hand causing the shrieking to turn into light hearted "awws."  
  
"Now if you can believe in those. then why not magic, Jack?" He pointed the wand to the rabbit as it disappeared.  
  
"I. " The somewhat unenthused volunteer looked at the anticipated crowd. "I guess.. just didn't know enough about ?"  
  
Fairfax's antagonizing mood quickly changed as he gave out a smile. "Well you shall surely learn tonight, Jack."  
  
Jolly pulled a chair from behind the small stage and placed it behind the volunteer.  
  
"And the best way to learn is to conjure up the spirits. The evil spirits. Just to let everyone know this is not for the faint of heart. Now take a seat, Jack."  
  
The lights dimmed. Hushes from little children began to control the room. The volunteers face looked blank as usual.  
  
Five minutes later the tent was completely dark and beyond the rattling caged animals' screams not a single voice from the crowd was heard. The front flap of the tent opened, as the volunteer's eyes were wide open with his hand covering his chest as if it would stop his heart from beating so fast.  
  
Part of him looked relieved to see that the rest of the fairground went on with its business. Yet, one by one, he saw them looking up above the tent to see a lime green cloud - no more than 100 feet above them - hovering towards the ground. The rain started to pour.  
  
The volunteer, still shaking, reached into his pocket and threw the few folded bills that -the ones Fairfax had given to him before the show - onto the now muddy ground and began to run, once again. 


	2. back to the three broomsticks

The summer tourism that Hogsmeade's many store and restaurant owners lived off of had taken a rather large drop due to the unexplainable rain that had lasted for the last two months. The town was not alone. The rest of the world was seeing it too. Feeling his socks getting wetter and wetter with each step Ronald Weasley decided to pick up pace to The Three Broom Sticks. With The Daily Prophet trying to cover most of himself, the head shot picture of Roger Davies was constantly blinking as rain poured down onto the two of them.  
  
Watching the flapping sign as if it was the first time, Ron opened the door and sneaked in, acting as if he had no idea that he was late. His disappointed eyes looked around to see nothing but open tables in the local pub.  
  
"I was about to leave," He heard a voice say from behind him.  
  
"Oh?" he twisted around to see the brushy haired young woman roll her eyes and put her jacket back up onto the coat rack.  
  
Ron put his long coat beside her completely dry one. " Hermione, I wouldn't have been late if it wasn't for."  
  
"You knew this is important to me, Ron." She murmured as she went to the open booth that was closest to the door.  
  
"Yes, well I tried getting off of work today but I overheard something." Ron said picking up a menu along with Hermione.  
  
"So what was at work that you overhead was so important.....are the Chudley Cannons getting Oliver Wood?" Hermione said diverting her eyes to the menu.  
  
"Glad to see you've changed," Ron grunted.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" She said watching him cross his arms and slouch down in the booth.  
  
"Why are we even doing this?"  
  
"We're." She saw the filthy waitress approach them in mid-row. "We're ready to order."  
  
"What will it be?" The waitress asked as Ron looked rushed.  
  
"I'll have the Mediterranean Crinzit salad," Hermione said politely.  
  
"I'll have." Ron was still skimming through the menu. "Guess I'll have the same. And two butterbeers, please. "  
  
"It'll be ready in a few minutes and I'll bring you two your butterbeers now."  
  
The waitress moved over to the bar where she generously filled the pints of butterbeer for the awkwardly silent customers.  
  
"Just us today?" Ron asked looking around, trying to sense any echoes of laughter that swapped around a few years ago.  
  
"Well," Hermione said looking out the window. "I thought this would probably be best. You could've brought Luna, I suppose."  
  
"No. I'm alright with this. If she came, Ginny would've had to come." He mumbled.  
  
"If this is awkward for you then I understand it's just that I thought that we."  
  
"I know," Ron said, sitting back upright. "I thought about it too but you said it before I could."  
  
"Doesn't really feel like his birthday, does it?" she said, trying to hold it inside.  
  
"It ...just sounds pretty weird but I always tried to figure out what it'd be like the summer after he got out." He said, joining her to stare out the window. "No more adventures on having to get him out of the Dursleys' house. I miss those."  
  
"Oh Ron, I miss him." She said softly.  
  
"I miss him too." He said as the two butterbeers were crept underneath them.  
  
"To Harry?" Hermione said, trying to sound enthusiastic.  
  
"To Harry." Ron said clanking his pint of butterbeer against hers. "Happy Birthday where ever you are."  
  
"How have you been?" she asked before sipping her butterbeer.  
  
"Just keeping myself busy at.work" Ron shrugged. "You?"  
  
"Hogwarts is getting smaller and smaller each day I walk in." she said. "And I dedicate every bit of my free time to S.P.E.W. so you know how that is. But don't give me a speech on how they won't want to stop, not today, Ron. For Harry's sake."  
  
"Err Right. Really sorry that I've been late with all of your owls." Ron groaned, it had been awhile since he had had a butterbeer.  
  
"I was almost sure you didn't read the one about today." Hermione snapped.  
  
"I almost didn't." Ron said and decided to relax.. "But. well. everything is nice and weird now."  
  
"Weird? Why?" Hermione asked.  
  
"You know why," Ron said impatiently.  
  
"No. What?"  
  
"It's the same reason I can't even talk more or less look Ginny in the eye every time I visit her." Ron said. "Only it might be worse with you."  
  
"What? Ron."  
  
"When Harry died, alright? I guess I couldn't accept it like everyone. Maybe because I always saw him making it out. Maybe because I wish I hadn't screwed up the bloody thing."  
  
"Ron, it's not your fault. I'm not going to hear any of that today either. If you would've been in the chamber when that happened you would've ended up like Tonks and Dumbledore. Saying that it's your fault is just like saying it was anyone else's fault. Including mine."  
  
"But we don't know that he, or any of them died right away. If I hadn't been so busy with."  
  
"When you took out Lucius, Ron. You saved Harry time. And you also saved your sister. Did you ever think of that?"  
  
The waitress interrupted them by placing their orders in front of them. Ron stabbed every bit of his salad as Hermione saw clearly that he was upset.  
  
"How is work with the new job?" she asked calmly. "I know you wouldn't quit the Ministry unless it was important, although Ginny is worried."  
  
"It's better work and a little less pay." Ron said looking up at her.  
  
"What is it that you do again?" She said with a confused look on her face.  
  
"Well, it's sort of. brand new; I guess you could call it, that." He mumbled while proceeding to take in his salad.  
  
"You're not a groundskeeper or something? Ginny seemed awfully worried about how you just got up and left the Ministry and your brothers think that you were.well."  
  
"What do my brothers know? None of them work for the Ministry."  
  
"It's just that you had a job there. If you would've worked hard at it you might have been able to move up. Like your father, you know?"  
  
"Yeah, that's a great idea. Wait until I have no hair until have enough money saved to by my first car. A used one at that!"  
  
Hermione did not look impressed as she placed her fork down not looking hungry anymore. Before she could speak, Ron continued.  
  
"C'mon, Hermione. I know what you're going to say. Dad loved his job. Well my job was alright but I wasn't as ambitious or interested in it as dad was with his." He said almost finished with his salad.  
  
"And you're ambitious with this one. One that pays you nothing. And look at you Ron! It looks as if you haven't had anything to eat in a week I'm guessing. I also suppose that not talking to or visiting your family or friends is something you're really ambitious about too. Isn't it?"  
  
"You know what? I seem to remember this was a day to remember Harry. Not same old 'look at what a pathetic failure you are Ron' day that we have had every time we got together."  
  
"Well Harry would be telling you this too."  
  
"No-he-wouldn't!"  
  
The startled bartender dropped her glass on the floor.  
  
"Yes, Ron I do believe he would. You used to show some compassion towards your friends but now.now it's all about you doing what you want to do."  
  
"Compassion, huh?"  
  
"Yes," Hermione gulped as he swooned over her scolding her with his blue eyes.  
  
"Wasn't I the only one who didn't give up on Harry after they couldn't find his body? The rest of you held memorials the second the news came out. I was alone out there that entire summer looking for him. You gave up hope! Not me. I believed in him because I. I have compassion."  
  
"Ron, we know he was your best friend." Hermione was no longer upset. "That you cared about him more than anything but where would he be if Voldemort didn't kill him? If he did survive wouldn't he want to be with us?"  
  
"I did. ..I did my research. Harry could've been hit so hard by a spell that his memory was gone. He could've been transported somewhere by accident. Voldemort and his magic might not have been strong enough to kill him so he did the best he could to hurt him."  
  
"Yes but even the seer's say that he's died. We had so many people try and find him as well as Tonks and Dumbledore. I was really worried about you. We all were. I knew Harry was dead but if you would've asked me I would've gone. It wasn't right for you to go out on your own like that. And now this?"  
  
"I did it because Harry would have done it for me. He would've done it for you too, Hermione. And you know what? Harry would really be happy for me taking this new job."  
  
"Ron, I never said that I wasn't proud of you. I just feel left out of hearing the details." She said going back to eating her salad.  
  
"Well.it's something I can't exactly explain over a butterbeer. Can't really explain it in a public place either." He laughed as the bartender and the paintings on the walls gave him a funny look.  
  
"Well you can always send it by owl, you know?" she said while taking a bite. "I don't have anyone to show, really."  
  
"How's that going?" Ron asked, leaning his arms on the table - watching her as she very properly ate each piece as if it were the most interesting thing he had seen in the world.  
  
"How's what going?" she said looking at Ron's new relaxed composure and not taking well to it.  
  
"You know? Finding people to show things to?"  
  
"Oh." She said, politely wiping her mouth with her napkin. " Are you asking me about my personal life?"  
  
"I guess." He said picking up his fork and eating the banana pepper she picked out. "Yes."  
  
"Well," she said in a curious voice. "Not much to entertain you with, then."  
  
"What about Vicky?" he said in a voice that sounded four years younger.  
  
"Still the same." She said looking at him happily. "A very nice pen pal."  
  
"I saw that he happened to donate all of his proceeds toward S.P.E.W in his latest charity game."  
  
"You have time to read Quidditch Weekly but never find a minute to answer my owls. Ron, why doesn't that surprise me?"  
  
"And you avoid my question. Hermione, why doesn't that surprise me?"  
  
"Well Viktor and I have always been as close as you and I. Now that I believe that I've been far away from avoiding anything let us see if you can handle the same question Ron. How's 'finding people to show things to' been for you?"  
  
"Haven't had much time for it, really. Too busy with the job."  
  
Hermione tried to look disappointed with his answer. "What about Luna?"  
  
"What about Luna?" Ron asked leaning over the table.  
  
"I thought I was the one who avoided questions. Let's have it Weasley, just like old times of sitting here and listening to you two, what have you shown her?"  
  
"It's my little sister's friend Hermione!" Ron became a 19 year old who was scarlet red as an eleven year old.  
  
"Yes, but I hear." She couldn't look him in the eye or write to him about in an owl. "I happened to hear that you two were spending a lot of time together at Ginny's birthday party this May."  
  
"You're kidding me! No? You're not are you? I was off trying to find Fred and George and she starts talking about something or another. I couldn't think straight.then she asked me to dance with her. and next thing I know she kisses me!"  
  
"Well Ron. I'm sure it was nice. You can't act foolish and say that you never saw it coming. I'm very happy for you."  
  
"Expect it coming? I knew the girl was a bit out there and unpredictable but how can you say that I could see it coming?"  
  
"The girl's been in love with you ever since your 5th year. Calling you 'Ronald', supporting you during Quidditch, talking about how funny you are every blasted minute like."  
  
"Well it didn't seem too apparent to me!" Ron reiterated.  
  
"Oh sure, Ron. Flew right past you. From what I heard it certainly became apparent when she had her lips locked all over you."  
  
"Well I did push away but I swear Fred and George must have put some kind of slow motion spell on me because I couldn't. Think I wanted mum or anyone else to see that in the backyard?"  
  
"Uh huh. Very believable case. A beautiful young blond throws herself on the very available Ron Weasley - one who has had one too many butterbeers - and he must have done everything possible to keep such a thing from happening!"  
  
Ron stopped looking angry. "What's it matter to you, anyways?"  
  
"It.It only proves my point." She said in a very reluctantly confident voice. " That you're not the same."  
  
The simple words seemed to phase Ron more than they should have. Hermione even bit her lip after saying that but before they could continue on a loud crash of thunder shuttered down on the cobblestone street beside the pub.  
  
"That's it, I'm leaving." Ron said, taking out a few galleons and leaving them on the table. "Happy birthday, Harry."  
  
Hermione looked frozen onto her barstool as Ron haphazardly picked up his dripping coat and opened the door, sighing at the still pouring rain. Hermione didn't look as hungry when she stared down at her salad, and very grudgingly she rushed to get her own bright yellow raincoat and opened the door looking to find Ron.  
  
To her surprise there was a very strange silver and black American car parked in the center of the road. A man in his thirties, wearing what looked to be a life vest and faded jeans was frantically talking to a calm and collective Ron. He sounded and looked like he was from California.  
  
She began to move over to them as bits of their conversation in the cold rain became clearer and clearer.  
  
"Yes.I know. Are you sure?"  
  
"Ron, I swear to you..I mean even he believes it."  
  
"Ok, Ok. Marty.do we have time?"  
  
"For Pete sake's, Ron. Time is the only thing that I've been known for being good at."  
  
They had been too busy in their conversation to notice Hermione standing right next to them. "Ron, who is this? What is going on?"  
  
"Just," Ron looked at her stern cocoa eyes, " business. Nothing you should worry about, Hermione."  
  
"You work with Ron?" Hermione asked the man in a very untrusting way.  
  
"Ron?" he said putting his hand over the wizard's shoulder. "Are you kidding me? Of coarse I work- with -him."  
  
"And what exactly do you do?" Hermione asked.  
  
Ron gave Marty a sharp look.  
  
"Well, I. I'm his messenger boy of sorts. Speaking of witch..i mean which."  
  
"Are you a muggle?" she said determined.  
  
Marty gave a very confused look as if looking for Ron's advice. He shrugged. "Well..uh..sure. Yeah. Been a muggle for the last few years."  
  
"Ron, I need to have a talk with you." Before he could say anything Hermione grabbed the much taller Ron by the arm and guided him to a deserted Alley. The now soaked messenger beside the car repeatidly pointed to his watch.  
  
"Ron, tell me right now. What kind of work are you doing? Do you work with muggles and how in the name of Merlin did you get them into a magical town?" she looked quite furious.  
  
"Not that I'd like to hear another long speech about wrong and right now but I really must get going."  
  
"If you don't tell me." She scowled. "I'll tell your family and if they don't stop you from whatever you're getting into. I'll tell the Ministry."  
  
Ron stopped in mid step.  
  
"What don't you just lay off of me for one bloody minute? Every letter and conversation I have with you is just one gigantic pile of what I shouldn't be doing! I know I've been wrong. Probably more times than I've been right. This time I'm not. So just bugger off!"  
  
Usually it would've made Hermione stop and think but she wasn't finished. "Ron, you can't really think that doing something that goes against over 242 rules of magic can be possibly right. This isn't like you."  
  
Ron ignored her and got into the unusual car, where the driver had already been eagerly waiting.  
  
"Ron.wait.."  
  
But she saw the silver car race down the bumpy street at great speed. As it flew past the market it disappeared into midair.  
  
"What kind of magic is he using?" she folded her arms in the bleak rain as unnoticeable tears began to trickle from her face. "What kind of trouble will he be in for it?" 


End file.
